Deliverance
by NihilistAce
Summary: DamienButters. Damien is on Earth to decide if humanity is ready for Armageddon. Butters/Professor Chaos interests Damien and together they sow Chaos as Butters' friends grow increasingly worried about their formerly cheery and optimistic punching bag.
1. Chapter 1

Distaste etches his features the moment the cool Colorado air touches his skin. He steams, ever so slightly as he stands amidst the wintery scene. He's on Main Street in South Park. Damien gazes around, not much has changed in the small town. He wanders the town, nothing yet piquing interest. Not that he thought anything would, to be honest, he detests that his father sent him above. He is to learn and judge. However, it's the middle of the week, and typically humans have their religious bull shit on Sunday.

With nothing to do, Damien wanders to the house his father gifted him. It is not fancy or large, it has an upstairs with two bed rooms, a bathroom, and then the downstairs contains a kitchen and living room. It is sparsely furnished, not that he requires much anyway. Upon the desk in his room, he finds a file with his name printed clearly.

His red eyes bore over the words, his mouth setting into a deeper frown than before as he reads he is to attend high school, he is a transfer student, or so the paperwork will lead the reader to believe.

Time works differently on Earth than it does in Hell, his eyes flick to the onyx watch on his wrist, it reads 3:30pm. He tosses the file back on the desk before teleporting to Kenny McCormick's house, out of sight, but into the blond's room.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" exclaims the blond from his laying position in his bed, his hand now out of his pants.

Kenny's hair is messy, strewn across his forehead by sweat and spilling onto the flat pillow beneath him.  
"Fuck me asshole! Knock first!"

Damien regards the flustered blond in silence for a beat before replying, "If I had known I would be interrupting, I wouldn't have came at all."

Kenny grumbled unintelligibly while adjusting himself atop his pants before sitting up and focusing on Damien.  
"Does this mean what I think it does?"

"It does. A terrible thing."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Sooooo terrible dude. You get to decide if we're ready to all be violently murdered."

Damien's arms folded across his broad chest as he regarded the blond coldly, "I have to attend school and witness "holy" activities. It's imbecilic."

"Ouch."

Damien leaned back into the wall. "Such is existence. I begin at your school, in your grade tomorrow."

"Know what classes you got yet?"

"No. The papers I have say to go to the office."

"You might have to take a placement test," Kenny snickered.

"My credentials should afford me the top classes."

"What?!"

"We don't all squander our immortality," Damien retorted.

"Oh well fuck me, Mr. Prince of Hell, I don't have much fucking time to devote to _studying_," Kenny growled, glaring at the black haired teen.

"But you do, instead you lament to me about how terrible it is to die all the time," Damien replied, quickly growing bored and tired of McCormick's whining.

"Because it's fucking bullshit!"

"I'm not saying I disagree, but you have time."

Kenny stared at him a while, Damien returned the stare with disinterest.

"So what are you here for? As in, my room."

"Why not?"

"God you're insufferable."

Damien teleports away, bored of McCormick, he is back in his house. He had hoped, vainly, that McCormick could offer him something for his time. But it seemed that he was to succumb to boredom instead. Damien gazed at the gray carpeting of his room before exiting and going down the stairs at a half-trot. He exited his house and made his way back into town. He chose a bar and entered, staying in a corner, observing all who entered, exited, and so forth. He saw many drunks as the day turned to night. They all seemed like idiots. Armageddon or no, they weren't ready. The people were not fighters, they could hardly grasp the life before them.

He scoffed and vacated his seat, exiting into the even colder air of night. As he trudged past an electronics store, suddenly all the TVs in the windows shifted to focus upon a blond wearing a curious metallic helmet. He spoke of how he had control of all the televisions and radios, it would be Chaos for the South Park police were powerless to stop him. The screen shifted again, this time, though it was something on a loop, at first it appeared to be noise, but as he listened intently, he recognized it. It was disguised as white noise but it was a series of suggestions, heinous suggestions, but the weak minded would have a hard time ignoring them if they continued long enough.  
Damien stared at the TVs, wondering just who that blond had been.

The school day began with utmost irritation for Damien. From the second he walked in, people stared and whispered. A glare quickly made them avert their gaze, but he was aware of the whispers regardless of his glares.  
He found the office he needed and waited impatiently for the secretary to finish on the phone. Finally, he passed her the file and she set about typing on her computer. Eventually, he was given a class schedule, locker number, and directions to his first class, which wound up being second period as he had missed first. The day began with grueling introductions, wherein each he stated his name and took the only available seat, regardless of where it sat. He listened but only fractionally, instead, covertly studying his classmates.

He was in Advanced and Advanced Placement classes for all. He was among the smartest of South Park. These included Kyle Broflovski, Wendy Testaburger, Bebe Stevens, Butters Stotch, Token Black, and Craig Tucker(in one literature class). They were intelligent, true, but were they prepared for Armageddon?

A question Damien was in the midst of pondering wherein he was called upon.

"Damien, what do you think?"

His attention snapped to the teacher and he gave a thorough response to her question, which seemed to surprise her as she must have thought he hadn't been listening.  
Lunch time presented itself and without true need of sustenance, though he could partake for show or taste, Damien moved through the throng of people to the cafeteria. He observed from far enough away that he wouldn't be noticed but he saw much.

A twitching teen had a large spasm and his hand knocked the tray of another blond, which the contents splattered on to the jacket, shirt, and pants of a much larger brown haired boy. The second blond tried to apologize but he was shoved hard, sending the blond skidding away on his ass. He didn't move as the larger boy stomped over to him and raised a fist to clock him. The twitching teen, whose fault it was, averted his eyes, as were all those who were in the general vicinity. Even the blond in the light blue jacket seemed resigned to his fate.

He watched the scene continue to unfold.  
The blond rejoined his friends after the larger boy walked away. The blond had no lunch now, but no one offered him anything. They continued on, laughing and talking, as if one of their friends hadn't just received a hefty fist to the face.  
His demonic senses were dulled, but he knew the posture the blond was exhibiting. He wasn't as defeated and meek as he had seemed a moment ago, on the ground. He was... vengeful. His friends didn't seem to notice a change though, as Damien walked to a line, choosing the one nearest their table, he caught snippets of conversation.

"Clyde is such an asshole."

"I-it was m-my own fault."

"Gah! Dude! No it wasn't!"

"It's okay Tweek, I s-should have been m-more mindful of my tray when I was t-trying to help you."\

"Aw man!"

"Stan! Why didn't you stop Clyde?"

"Butters is fine, right Butters?"

"Right-o!"

"See Wendy? Butters is used to this."

He heard a scoff and then was too far to hear more.

So..., the one on the ground had been Butters Stotch? And the large one would have been Clyde. Interesting. Butters' tone belied his body language, however it appeared his "friends" didn't notice. Strange.

He took a solitary table with his tray of unappealing food, gazing across the large room, at Butters.  
It almost looked as though the blond had seen him staring, but Damien was sure that couldn't have been, how would the blond know when they were so far apart?

He ate and disposed of his tray, scrutinizing Butters, something seemed familiar about him. He was unsure though, in the remainder of his classes, he continued to observe Butters. When he gave answers, as he interacted with his friends, at his locker as he was shoved into the metal. He saw the face of vengeance for a brief instant, but then it was gone and replaced by a cheery smile. Damien's interest was piqued. He needed to know more about one Butters Stotch.


	2. Chapter 2

Damien had his eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together, his mouth set in a determined line. A dark red aura surrounded his physical form as he meditated, his awareness was thrust deep into the bowels of his memory and the "database" of South Park history. He was witnessing the years he had missed when his father had first recalled him home. He was searching, and almost exclusively looking for everything regarding Butters Stotch.

An infernal beeping was insistent upon the edge of his awareness, growing more insistent. His red eyes flew open and he unfolded his legs as he floated the few remaining inches to the ground. On his desk, his cell was the thing making the noise. He approached it with irritation, it was 7 AM. He resisted the urge to crush the piece of technology within his fist and instead silenced it and gathered his bag for the school day.

He walked to the school as he ruminated on all that he had managed to learn. He was thankful that at least he had retained his meditative ability, it would prove useful in the coming days as he would have to make a thorough case as to whether or not humanity was ready. Of course, he was already of the opinion that they were not ready, but he would have to compile actual evidence stating thusly.

Leopold "Butters" Stotch was an interesting boy. Whether his parents actually loved their child was debatable as they engaged most frequently in rather abusive behaviors. Though in more recent years, his mother had receded, living in the haze of medication and drink. His father demanded obedience and would use force when he deemed Butters deserved it. It wasn't terribly frequent any longer, but still enough that Butters had scars upon his back and the upper backs of his thighs.

When Butters was a child, around the same age Damien had been when he first visited Earth, Butters had constructed an "alter ego", Professor Chaos. Through the years, Butters had honed his hacking and technical skills. He began with small acts of Chaos, simple things at first. But as Damien witnessed on his first day back, Professor Chaos had began using his skills for much more sinister purposes.  
Despite all this knowledge he now possessed about Butters, he knew he couldn't exactly tell him he knew all of this. He would have to become his friend. Get Butters to actually, trust him, unlike the way he acted most of the time, Damien recognized that Butters only tolerated his "friends". In fact, the boy had detailed plans of how to get back at various members of the group, not that it seemed he had ever enacted any of them.

A cold smile found its way to Damien's lips as he entered the school, he could earn the true trust of Butters and together, they could sow some Chaos. It would likely take time, and it was not his original mission for being on Earth. He continued to dwell on those facts as he entered his first class for the day. He sat through his classes, ruminating on how to best approach Butters, how to gain his trust, and how to defend his plans that vastly deviated from his mission.

By the end of the school day, he had only made progress regarding how to defend his plans. It would be to prove whether humanity was ready or not, if they could sustain or even end, the Chaos. Because Armageddon would be **nothing** **but** **Chaos**, on a global scale. It was not the perfect defense, but it would do for the first time if he were to be questioned. He could iron out further details as he needed to. For now, it would do.

He had opted to walk home, and upon arrival he jogged up the stairs to his bedroom. He had more to learn of Butters before approaching him, so he was going to meditate again. To allow for a deeper state, Damien set about taping down a pentagram upon the carpet. Once it was finished, he stepped in the center and closed his eyes, focusing inward. Soon, he was floating four feet above the ground, his legs folded and his hands resting in his lap, a dark red aura enveloping him again as he cast his mind towards the "database" again, searching for anyone that had actually breached the trust of Butters.

It took searching but he finally found a kid that had appeared to have truly befriended the blond, a boy by the name of Dougie O'Connell. He was also ostracized, for being a "ginger" and therein became friends with Butters and even acted as his sidekick, General Disarray. However, that was when they were children. Looking more recently, it appears as though Butters has been working alone.  
Interesting.  
He continues to learn about Dougie's time as Butters' sidekick, eventually happening upon the cause of the rift between them.

It started as Butters' desire for originality in his villany, and only grew as Butters proposed more "dangerous" targets and schemes. Eventually though, Dougie was the one who stopped hanging out with Butters, without a formal word to Butters. If Butters was saddened by the loss of his one true friend, he didn't show any signs. Perhaps that was telling of the fact that he was always waiting for people to leave him for one reason or another.

Damien returned to his normal state after that, the red aura dissipating and he floated back down to stand. He checked the phone on his desk, the time reading 5:47 AM. He glared at it, he had school in a few hours, while he didn't need sleep, he would need to do the assigned homework or risk getting kicked out of the classes or worse, being forced to talk to a "guidance counsellor".  
He finished the work but would be late if he walked, so he opted to teleport, appearing behind the school, in the dark shadows next to the dumpsters. As he walked out, he saw the goth kids, they regarding him with suspicion.

"What are you doing back here poser?" one of them asked, he had a cane and a large nose.

"Whatever I like," Damien replied, not breaking stride as he continued to the nearest entry.

He heard another whisper that they thought they recognized him, and that he was obviously trying to hard to be goth.

He put them out of his mind as he walked to his first class of the day. He mulled over when the best time to approach Butters would be. He wasn't keen on attention to himself. However..., if something akin to the first day happened at lunch again, he could use that as an entry point. And so, Damien sat back and began the long wait for lunch period. He continued to excel in his classes, acing the tests he was given and getting 100's on the homeworks.

At last though, it was lunch time.

He entered the cafeteria fifteen minutes late and acquired a double helping of food, wandering to his far corner table when the commotion began.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT BUTTERS!" Someone yelled behind him.

He half-turned, taking in the scene. A large brunette with a red jacket was towering over Butters at their shared table, Damien couldn't see anything from the angle he had but assumed somehow Butters was being blamed for something having spilled again.

He heard others at the table attempting to calm the large boy, but it wasn't working.  
"I'M GOING TO KNOCK HIS FUCKING FAGGOT TEETH IN!" the boy bellowed, a meaty fist reeled back as he grabbed the light blue jacket of the blond.

Butters sputtered apologies, offering his lunch to the brunette in attempt to reconcile.  
A woman, attempted to intervene but the larger boy told her to fuck off and she angrily got up and left altogether, as did two others that had been sitting there.  
Butters appeared resigned to his fate, head hung low, but Damien could just barely see the glint in his eye.

It was then, Damien appeared behind the red jacketed boy and spoke, "I have two servings of today's lunch, I will let you have it, in return for Butters' lunch and his teeth as they are."

The boy released Butters with a none-to-gentle shove and whirled on Damien.  
Brown eyes bored into Damien's red, "Who the fuck are you?!"

"That doesn't matter, do you accept my offer?" Damien replied, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he saw the brunette falter slightly.

"Fine!" he snatched the tray from Damien and stormed away, not before muttering "Fags."

With him gone, Damien extended a pale hand to the blond, "My name is Damien, you may remember me from class or from all those years ago when we were students together."

Butters regarded him in silence, with the others dispersed, his usual cheery demeanor was gone, instead he was cold and calculating, barely restrained anger bubbling beneath the surface.

"Everyone calls me Butters," he muttered.

"Would you care to join me at my table?"

"Why?"

"It's empty of all save ourselves."

He considers for a long moment, gray eyes examining Damien.  
"Lead the way."

And so Damien does, to his table in the back, away from most people.  
They sit across from each other, in silence as Butters enjoys his lunch and studies Damien. His anger is still there, but it's buried back beneath the cold.

With approximately five minutes of lunch left, Butters finally breaks the silence.  
"Why did you come over and stop Cartman?"

"Why do you pretend to be meek?" Damien countered.

Butters laughs, but it is not of mirth, it's a haunting sound, one that Damien wouldn't mind hearing again.  
Damien offers a small cold smile and Butters returns to the last of his lunch. An interesting start to an unusual friendship.


End file.
